


Season 12

by lovelymalakai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel in the Bunker, Castiel-centric, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Post-Season/Series Finale, Really gradual story, Sam-Centric, Supernatural - Freeform, post-S11finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7110004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelymalakai/pseuds/lovelymalakai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing that Sam remembers is screaming Cas's name as a blinding light filled the bunker, and then a gunshot. (post-S11finale)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Adjusting

**Author's Note:**

> hola mishamigos, this is just a little prediction of mine of what may happen after the season eleven finale from Cas's and Sam's side of the story. enjoy! :)  
> P.S. please feel free to comment about any spelling or grammar errors!

The bunker was quiet.

Sam opened his eyes abruptly and put his hand on the cold bunker floor, his hair falling in front of his face. Bewildered, Sam quickly got himself up and pulled his gun out of the backside of his jeans, not knowing where to point. Sam observed his atmosphere: alone in the bunker. No British lady with bloody fingers. No Cas. No Dean. Remembering the prior events, Sam's face grew sad as he put his gun back into his pants. Although he was topside, a lot of things still didn't make sense to the tall man.

_How am I alive? Where is that British lady? Is Cas still gone? How long ago did this happen? The angel sigil isn't still on the wall?_

The sound of the bunker door opening broke Sam's train of thought as he turned around to be stunned by the image of a dirty Castiel, still sporting his white button-up, blue tie, and trench coat. Panting, Cas said "Sam" under his breath whilst Sam stood stunned and speechless [ I hope some of you like my alliteration :) ].

"Cas, how are you—where did you go? What happened?" Sam said, still presuming his stance while Cas tiredly walked down the steps.

"Are you okay? You hurt?" Sam said, suddenly realizing the way that Cas had been walking; as if there were an extra weight on him, and aided his friend by putting his arm under Castiel's left arm and around his back.

"I—" an out-of-breath Castiel began, which was cut off by Sam saying, "No no, it's okay. You don't have to explain yourself right now", while they walked over to the two tables in the middle of the main room of the bunker.

"Just sit down", Sam said, wincing slightly while he lowered the man onto a chair. Cas let out a loud sigh and looked down at his lap while Sam pulled up a chair next to Castiel, sitting on it the way he always does: backwards with the back of the chair facing forward. Sam rested his head on his hands, which were holding on to the back of the chair. Sam looked up at Castiel, trying to read his face [Sam basically made his puppy-dog face]. Castiel looked back at him and opened his mouth slowly, finally saying, "My grace. It has been taken". Sam immediately straightened up and was about to reply when Cas said, "Not stolen. Some angels are keeping it for me up in heaven".

Trying to understand, Sam said, "But, why?"

"My siblings thought it best that I take a break from being in angel for a short-while. Some of them even pitied me in the fact that I couldn't mourn my friend's death because, well, as in angel we are incapable of mourning or feeling. I just go by the memories of feeling from when I was human"

"And you'll be okay without your mojo?"

Sighing once again, Cas replied with, "I'll survive"

~~~

Sam walked out of his room with his v-neck and pajama pants on, his hair all up in his face, while he walked over to the worn-out couch that lay near a TV. Stretching himself out along the couch and turning on the TV, he could hear the sound of Castiel raiding the kitchen over the voices coming from the TV. Tired but not enough to pass out, Sam used his hands as pillows while he tried to focus on what was happening on the TV, but he couldn't bring himself to think about something other than the fact that Dean was actually dead. For good. Dean had warned Sam about the reaper Billie who had her eyes on them, and Sam had remembered hearing her singing "Oh death" in the hospital that day when they had first encountered Amara's smoke disease thing that still doesn't have a name. Sam knew that Billie had put Dean into some non-existent place or the vacuum of space. Not only has she done that, but she had done it with a smile.

While his mind raced, Sam didn't realize that he was now sitting up and crying. Realizing what was happening, Sam immediately pushed back his hair and wiped his eyes, but he could nothing about the redness. Cas then sat down next to him, holding a mug with both of his hands and blowing on it. Sam looked toward him, his chin digging into the palm of his hand while his fingers rested at his temple, and asked, "What's that?"

"It's coffee. That is, if I worked the machine correctly"

Sam smiled a bit and cleared his face once more while sighing. Cas, in between his blowing of the coffee, said, "What are you watching?"

"Oh, I just turned the TV on and—"

"Were you crying?", Cas asked, his head cocked and his eyes slightly squinted. Sam straightened up a bit and said, "Uh—"

"Sorry, I'm probably not supposed to talk about it", Cas said, averting his eyes back to his coffee.

"Uh, no it's fine. I, um, I was, but...Uh, do you want to watch something on TV? I could use something to get my mind off of, well..." Sam trailed off when he saw Cas's eyes droop as he thought of Dean's death. As if on cue, the commercial on TV ended as the movie 'It's A Wonderful Life' started up.

"Hey, we should watch this. You can finally understand why Meg gave you the nickname Clarence", Sam said, seeing Cas's expression remain static, but he nodded slightly.

~~~

Castiel was completely wrapped up in the movie, whereas Sam's eyelids began to grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment and his grasp on the pillow in between his arms got weaker. Eventually, his eyes shut completely and Sam lay unconscious as he slowly slid sideways down the couch toward Cas. Castiel was completely unaware of this until Sam's head fell onto his lap, still facing the TV, and a pillow fell on Cas's feet. Startled, Castiel opened his mouth, as if he were about to say something, but no words came out. Cas, not wanting to wake Sam up, continued to silently watch the ending of the movie.

Cas decided that the pillow would be a good substitute for his lap and he began the careful maneuver of putting a pillow under Sam's head while sliding out of his position. Letting out a relieved sigh when he was completely off of the couch, Castiel retired to the room that was placed to the right of Sam's.


	2. Coping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! another chapter :) hopefully this will be quite a long story because i have a lot of stuff planned out for it. i'm going to explain some things so if you were confused about the beginning then do not worry, all will be revealed shortly! by the way, i say that Dean is Sam and Cas's brother in the story and no this isn't an AU or anything—this is literally just supposed to be what i think could happen after season eleven—it is just that Dean referred to Cas as their brother so I'm rolling with that. just wanted to put that out there so it doesn't bother a confused reader. alrighty, carry on! :) (my wayward son)

Sam was laying on the couch with a book prompt up on his shaking knee when Cas walked in. Sam abruptly turned his face to Cas when he heard the sound of his voice saying, "I tried using the pancake batter that, uh,  _God_ left from when he was staying here, but it didn't really work out. We should probably find some place to get food for breakfast". Cas began looking for his trench coat, which he had taken off in exchange for some of Sam's clothing. Although Dean's clothes would've fit him better, it would've made both Sam and Cas feel uncomfortable seeing their dead brother's clothes being worn by someone other than Dean.

"Uh yeah. Y'know there's gotta be a breakfast place somewhere around here", Sam said, getting up quickly from the couch to get his coat as well as the keys to the Impala. Sam tried to act like it was nothing, but even Cas could tell by the way that Sam held the keys so gingerly that he wasn't alright. But Castiel decided to do things the Winchester way: to hide any emotional issues until it eventually blows up in their faces—Castiel noticed that they did this quite often.

~~~

Sam looked timidly at the road through the awkward silence of the car while Castiel glanced over at Sam every once in awhile, as if he were going to say something. After Castiel couldn't bear the silence anymore, he finally said, "Sam, I'm sorry. For everything. I've betrayed you and your brother before, and I've been horrible to you. I just—"

"Cas, you don't need to apologize," Sam said, sighing, "I honestly just need someone to be here for me right now and you're here. That's all that matters".

"But, I broke the wall in your mind, and although I heard your prayers, I barely responded. I mean, I brought the man that tortured you for over a hundred years back onto land without really thinking about it from your perspective—"

"Hey, seriously Cas. It's fine", Sam said, continuing to look at the road. Sam fought hard to keep his facial expressions mundane, but he didn't really know why. Dean would want Sam to "deal with his emotions", not let them out. Castiel probably wouldn't mind either way, for he was probably doing the same thing Sam was with his feelings right now.

Finally, after what seemed to be the longest car ride ever, Sam and Castiel made it to a diner that sold breakfast food. Sam and Cas sat at a booth as both of them tried to put smiles on their faces even though deep down they were both thinking about how things won't be the same without Dean.

"So, what are you thinking about getting?", Sam asked Castiel.

"Um, I'm not sure yet", Castiel responded. Both of them knew this wasn't going to spark a conversation between them. But what did was Sam noticing a familiar face.

Sam looked over at a small lady with dark hair, and Castiel followed his gaze.

"That's Amelia", said Sam, his eyes still darting across the menu, "She's the girl that I spent about a year with when Dean and you were in purgatory".

"Is it not cordial to talk to her? Or invite her over here?", Castiel asked.

" _No_ , no", Sam said, almost a bit too loud, "Heh, no. I don't think she'd want to talk to me, and I wouldn't want to spoil her day".

"Do you mind me asking what happened between the both of you?"

"You can ask me, I just don't know if I can really answer. You see, Amelia wanted me to decide whether I could stay with her or not stay with her. There was no in between. She said she never wanted to see me unless I was staying for good, so I don't want to remind her of being stood up", Sam replied calmly, still keeping his eyes on the menu. Castiel hid himself behind his menu as well as Amelia got closer to them.

"Sam, you honestly think you can hide yourself behind a menu?"

Sam looked very startled by Amelia's soft voice and he immediately put the menu down.

"C'mon, what happened to you since you've been gone", Amelia joked. Sam stifled a laugh but Castiel didn't understand how it was a joke.

"Who's this?", Amelia said, nodding to Castiel.

"Oh, um, this is Castiel, but I call him Cas", Sam said, gesturing to Castiel.

"Nice to meet you", Castiel said, smiling and putting out his hand to greet Amelia. Amelia looked surprised and shook his hand.

"Nice manners", she replied, to which Cas tilted his head slightly in confusion.

"So, what brings you here?", Sam asked Amelia, fighting as hard as he could to not act awkward.

"Well, me and my husband, Don, were just on a little trip and we stopped at a motel a couple miles from here. In exchange for control over all the power outlets in the motel room, I have to pick up breakfast", Amelia said, referring to her takeout boxes.

"How have things been for you?", Amelia asked Sam.

"Um, I think I'll survive", Sam replied, laughing a little in attempt to make the situation less awkward.

"Alright, well I'll see you around, I guess", Amelia said, walking off and waving good bye to both Cas and Sam. Sam gave a quick wave of his hand whereas Castiel shouted "Good bye!", which made Sam have an actual, genuine laugh.

"I guess she's not mad at me", Sam said, looking relieved.

"I guess not", Cas replied, also relieved now that he didn't have to work hard on his social skills.

~~~

Back at the bunker, it was silent once again. The only noise Castiel could hear was omitting from the keys on Sam's computer and the light tapping of his finger against the sides of the chair he was sitting in. What Sam could be doing on his computer, Cas had no idea, but whatever it was, he was really focused on it. Castiel looked at Sam with sadness, or disappointment. Those two expressions were worn the same on Castiel's face. Sam abruptly stopped typing and then clicked on something.

"Um, that's weird", Sam said with a confused look on his face. The sudden change in the once silent atmosphere sparked Castiel, urging him to walk over to Sam and look at his computer—which he did. Sam cocked his head to the left and said, "I just got an email from some of my old college friends. Or at least the ones that  _weren't_ demons".

"What does it say?"

"It says that they're having a little reunion and they actually want  _me_ to join them too"

"How long will it last?"

"Oh, it's just a dinner at some fancy restaurant in...Palo Alto"

"Well, may I come then?", Cas said, looking at Sam with a blank face, which always amused Sam to some extent.

"Yeah, Cas", Sam said,"Definitely". Cas looked relieved when Sam said this and walked back over to sit down on his chair. There was a long silence where Sam didn't even madly type on his computer and Castiel didn't drum his fingers.

"Hey Cas, how are you holding up?", Sam said, pulling his chair up next to Castiel's and closing his laptop. He waited for an answer while he watched Castiel stare at his lap. Slowly Castiel looked back up at Sam and pretended to be more okay then he actually was.

"I'll survive", Cas replied, in almost a joking tone. To his surprise, Sam reached over Castiel and hugged him, engulfing him in his scent and warmth. Sam held Castiel tightly while Cas's hands lay limply on Sam's back and his head lay just over Sam's shoulder. Sam shifted his head while Cas relaxed and realized something: he didn't need words to explain how he somber he felt. Sam understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayy! hope you enjoyed! i wanted to add Amelia back into this—at least for a little bit—because i like her and i'm the writer so i get to decide things like that lol. please stay tuned for a new chapter if you're enjoying this so far~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it's been forever hello

When Cas was "human" before—when Metatron took his grace—he felt different than he did now. Castiel felt more emotions than he did before; he felt like his grace had never been in him to begin with. Castiel thought about when Metatron took his grace. The slitting of his throat. The way his grace just _grace_ fully fell into Metatron's small bottle. Castiel's eyes widened as he realized something. Metatron didn't take all of his grace, only the amount needed for the spell to lock the gates of Heaven. He was never fully human, until now. Castiel could tell something was different about his human self, but he didn't lay a finger on it until now. All of his emotions and feelings felt intensified. It was like before he could see red and blue, but now he saw purple—if that makes any sense. Cas vacantly stared at the ceiling of the motel room, which was located somewhere in between Kansas and California, as his mind swam. Is it normal for human's minds to wander like this at 1 am? Although Castiel was beyond tired, he sat up on his bed and swung his legs around the side of the bed. He looked over at Sam in the bed opposite of his. Every few moments, Sam's whole body would shiver and Sam would push his face farther into his pillow. Castiel, being half asleep, was confused why he couldn't enter Sam's mind, so, turning on the lamp in between their beds first, Cas walked over to Sam. Trying to reveal Sam's face, Castiel gently pulled his shoulder back to flip him over, which caused Sam to abruptly awake, bewildered by the light of the lamp and Castiel staring at him. Cas placed his two fingers on Sam's forehead and closed his eyes, causing Sam to go cross-eyed for a second.

Castiel cocked his head as Sam grabbed Castiel’s wrist softly, moving it out of his face, and asked, “Cas? What’re you doing?” Castiel, who was now looking down in realization, said, “Sorry, I forgot about my, uh, _mojo_ being gone”.

“It’s fine Cas. Just try and go back to sleep, we have a long drive tomorrow”  
Castiel studied Sam’s face for a second—red eyes with obvious tear stains—then laid back down on his bed, turning off the lamp on his way back. Castiel went back to gazing at the ceiling as he heard a deep breath from Sam and some shuffling of sheets.

After a few moments Sam said, muffled through his pillow, “You’re not going to sleep are you”.

“I don’t think so”

“Yeah, me neither”

~~~

It was the afternoon of the next day—or technically it was the same day—and Castiel was drowsily driving the Impala down the cement paved road. They were driving in shifts and it was Sam’s turn to sleep. Castiel glanced over every few minutes, making sure he was still there. He didn’t really know why he did this, but he did. Sam slept as if he would wake up any moment, Castiel observed. His face looked so calm for once and his hair was completely out of his face, but his eyelids moved frequently and he would shudder like he did the night before. Castiel couldn’t go into his mind anymore, but he wasn’t stupid and he knew that Sam was on edge, but it seemed like something more than Dean’s death.

Castiel pulled over, got out of the car and walked over to the passenger’s seat side, slowly opening the door so that Sam didn’t fall out or something. When he opened the door, about to tell Sam that it was his turn to drive, he saw that Sam was completely still and his head was resting against the seat over his right shoulder. His knees were close to his chest because Castiel had pushed the seats forward so he could reach the pedal.

“Sam?”, said Castiel, not knowing how to—and not really wanting to—wake Sam up gently. Castiel tapped his right shoulder until his eyes fluttered open. Letting out a big breath and wiping his face, Sam said, “Oh sorry, it’s my turn to drive”. Sam stepped out of the car and stretched out his arms and legs for a second, and then got in the driver’s seat. Immediately, Sam pushed the car seat backward. The next couple hours of driving to Palo Alto were filled with silence, but it wasn’t awkward. Both Sam and Cas were deep in thought.

~~~

Sam and Castiel walked into the restaurant, Sam wearing his FED suit and Castiel wearing the suit that he wore everyday, and Sam looked around for anyone familiar while Castiel observed their surroundings.

“If they ask any questions, leave it to me, okay?” Sam said to Castiel, who nodded in response. Sam started walking through the restaurant followed by Castiel. Castiel saw panic enter Sam’s face as the tabled was hushed when they walked up.

“Oh, Sam. You came!”, said a lady with a lot of big jewelry. Castiel had a hard time telling whether or not she was happy to see Sam.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks for the invite I haven’t seen you guys in forever”, Sam said, starting to sit down, “and this is my friend Cas”. Castiel smiled awkwardly as he sat down and everyone at the table exchanged expressions of awkwardness. A moment of silence passed until Sam said, "You guys probably have some burning questions for me so shoot"

"What was the deal with the whole serial killer thing? I mean, everyone seemed to think it was you and your brother, but it wasn't you guys. I mean, it couldn't have been…right?" said a pasty girl with brown hair, immediately and in a rush. Everyone's eyes went directly to Sam as his mind thought of what to use as a cover up story. Castiel realized that this probably wasn't going to be a very fun dinner.

  
“Yeah”, Sam began, the side of his lip rising as he let out a little laugh, “it’s kind of a long story but…” Castiel didn’t really pay attention to the rest of what Sam was saying because he started observing the restaurant and the people in it. The restaurant had tan walls and a rug that had colorful, intricate patterns. The restaurant's yellow hue was caused by their only source of light being the small lamps on each table, which were round and had white table cloths raining down the sides. Castiel cocked his head and began to ponder why people liked this lighting until a guy across the table asked him a question.

"Hey, what's up with—I mean, uh, where are you from?", the guy said, trying to choose the right words. Castiel looked at Sam for a second, who nodded at him, and then said, "I'm not a native English speaker and the place where I come from...it's hard to pronounce in your language".

"Ah man it's alright. Can you say it in your langua—native language?", the man said, looking around the table to see if anyone else wanted to here it too. Castiel's eyes grew wide as he said, "Oh, well...um...it's called Madariatza". Accent and all, Castiel spoke Enochian to the scholars. Sam and Cas shared a look and Sam looked as if he were about to find an excuse to leave.

"Oh, y'know I think I've actually heard that somewhere before...maybe in a textbook or something or—OH my y'know my father actually collects maps. I might've seen that name on one of his maps. This, uh, Madar place. It's just west of São Tomé and Príncipe, right? A little secluded island. Very exclusive and high-in", the lady with big rings said, right before taking a big drink from her thin champagne glass. Sam put a hand over his mouth to cover up his massive grin then swiftly hid his head behind the menu where he silently laughed. Castiel smiled at the sight of Sam being so happy.

"Yeah, I don't think that's the place he's from", said Kyle, the guy who originally asked Castiel where he was from. "So, Cas, is that short for anything?", Kyle asked.

"Yes: Castiel—"

"Like the angel?", Kyle said abruptly, leaning forward in his seat, intrigued.

"Um," Castiel said, looking over at Sam, who was trying to read the menu and pretend that he didn't just hear what Kyle said,"Yes, actually".

"Sorry, I'm bit of a religious freak", he said, smirking. Kyle glanced at one of his rings, which had a cross on it, and then back at Castiel. Castiel had been following Kyle's gaze which led him to meet Kyle's gaze, which made Kyle smirk again.

~~~

Sam checked the time and realized that it was already eleven o'clock. I guess time flies when you watch your former friends and Castiel get drunk. Sam found it most amusing when Cas would say things like "You remind of a man who lived in ancient Egypt during the building of the Pyramids of Giza","What you all are wearing is fancy for today's time, but if this had been a couple ten thousand years ago, I guess Neanderthals wouldn't really care how fancy your clothes are. Except for this one guy, well not  _guy_ per se...", and, Sam's favorite,"Kyle, I'm not named after Castiel, I  _am_ Castiel, angel of the lord", to which no one thought was weird because they were all drunk.

"Alright, Cas. I think it's pretty late. We should be on our way", Sam said, helping Cas up.

"That's probably a good idea", Castiel said as he started his long journey to the car, which was just outside the restaurant. Sam went around and said good bye to everybody at the table, even though Kyle was really the only friend he remembers from college out of the group.

"Seems you stepped up your game Sam", said Kyle, nodding at Cas, who was sitting in the Impala.

"Oh, were not—"

"Well if yall aren't then I'm gonna have to date that boy myself", said Kyle, nudging Sam, "or maybe yall just need some more time". Sam raised his eyes at Kyle.

"Only joking, only joking', said Kyle, sighing, "C'mon, I miss us".

Sam did his thing where he half smiles and laughs a bit, then says, "That was a while ago Kyle"

"Oh come on, that doesn't make you any less of a good big spoon"

"Bye Kyle", Sam said, grinning.

"Okay, okay. At least give me a hug", Kyle said, putting out his arms. Kyle was probably the only person Sam could hug—well, besides Dean—without it being awkward because of his height. Sam hugged Kyle a bit timidly.

"Y'know, later if you're not busy—"

"Bye Kyle", Sam said immediately, pulling away from the hug and walking towards the Impala.

"Bye!", Kyle shouted, to which Sam absently waved at him from behind.

Sam walked to the car and sat in the driver's seat next to Castiel, who looked up at him.

"I keep forgetting about my grace! I mean I  _shouldn't_ because I could tell just by myself  _feeling_ that I'm human, but I still try to do angel things. I was surprised when I couldn't hear what you or Kyle were saying", said Castiel, rocking side to side a bit.

"Um, you were trying to listen?", Sam said, while holding Castiel's shoulder to try and get him to stop rocking back in forth.

"Pfft, no", Castiel said, while making that adorable face he makes when he's lying. Sam just laughed.

"You know, I'm just glad that this night didn't end in one of them getting possessed or something", Sam said, looking over at his old peers, but he knew he shouldn't have said that. Just like Sam had wished wouldn't happen, he noticed a change in Kyle. His smirk that he usually dawned looked less flirtatious and more unnerving. In a split second, Kyle drew back a gun from the back of his pants and Sam drove away, the glass of the Impala's window breaking.

"Oh god oh god oh god oh...Cas are you okay?", Sam said trying not to take his eyes off the road as he sped away.

Castiel's low gruff voice responded with: "No". Sam looked over at Cas for a second, who was holding out two bloody hands that had been touching his shoulder.

"Where-where were you shot Cas?"

"I—"

"CAS"

"Left shoulder, glass"

"What?", Sam said, almost yelling again.

"It's-it's the glass that hurts. It hurts, hurts so much...", Castiel said, trailing off and out of breath.

"Hey hey hey, Cas. It's okay, okay? It's going to be okay Cas", Sam said, trying to persuade himself more than Castiel.

"I'm so sorry, Cas. I'm just...i'm sorry Cas", Sam kept saying over and over again.

                                                                               *                               *       [in the real world] *

Castiel wasn't hurt, but weak. That British woman of letters sought out for him after getting Sam, which clearly worked seeing as he was now tied up and growing weaker. He couldn't see much, but he could hear a faint voice. He guessed it was Sam's voice and he listened to it repeat  _'I'm sorry Cas'_ over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this probably doesn't make sense ( i mean i hope it does but it probably doesn't) but it should make sense later on just wait thank you ~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayo! i was supposed to post this a while ago, but then i kept adding more stuff in so here you go! this chapter kind of just wrote itself and i didn't really plan on it going this way but it happened so there ~

Blood dripped from Castiel's chin down his white—well, not white any more per say—button-down shirt. He slowly blinked his sunken in, bruised eyes. Castiel's wrists were in large metal cuffs which were attached to the tall ceiling by chains. The tips of Castiel's feet touched the cold, dirty ground. He was so very tired and exasperated. He felt a sudden longing to be lounging on Sam's bed watching Netflix as he had done many weeks ago. Seeing a wide array of stories come to life on a screen while resting and knowing that the Winchester’s were doing somewhat okay and “Fighting the good fight” as Dean would say. Castiel had been listening to Sam's mumbling for hours, but once his messages got more audible and clear, his murmuring was accompanied by footsteps. It wasn't loud, clunky boot-sounding footsteps like Castiel had been expecting. It was the sound of heels. Through the blur of his half-way opened eyelids, he saw a thin woman that looked like a fashion model even though she was walking down a literal bloody hallway. Castiel spent a long time wondering whether or not the soles of her shoes were red before she walked in here or if—focus, Castiel.

Castiel's room was set up like a jail cell: cement walls on three sides, one gated side with a locked door. There was, however, a window to the right of Castiel, if you want to call a foot-wide squarish hole broken into cement a window. Castiel tried to adjust his face and eyes so that he could see what this ~~wannabe Bela Talbot~~ suited woman was doing to Sam. Castiel's vision gave out as he felt his grace withering by the second. Sam's voice had grown from a raspy whisper to almost a loud cry, but it was the same message: "I'm sorry Cas". Every inch of Castiel's body—celestial body, not just his vessel, which is small—wanted to just break out of his cuffs, put two fingers to that woman's forehead, and tell Sam that it was going to be okay. Castiel had the determination but not the strength or energy. Abruptly, Sam's voice was cut off, followed by the opening and closing of his cell door, then more clicking of heels and flickering of yellow lights. Castiel tried to speak, which only caused a coughing fit. The British lady's footsteps slowed down as she approached Castiel's cage and then came to a complete stop. Castiel saw a vague image of a blonde woman taking off big, designer-looking glasses which somehow didn't ruin her slick and tight ponytail. Her red lips formed in a little smile as she tilted her head ever so slightly. She turned back down the hallway and continued her model strut as Castiel tried to let this wave of weakness and hurt pass over him.

  
* * *

Sam watched the road filled with lights through the tears in his eyes while voices in head tried to reassure him. It's okay Sam. Cas will be okay. You won't be alone. You're not losing Dean and Cas. Cas will be okay. Even with these words circulating his brain, Sam could do nothing about his crying. As he blinked his tear away, the Impala was put into a different setting: right outside the bunker. Castiel was okay. In fact, he wasn't even bloody? While Sam tried to process what was going on, he didn't realize that Cas had left the car and slipped into the bunker. Still wide-eyed, Sam entered the bunker and said, 'Cas?", very loudly.

"I'm in the kitchen Sam", Castiel said absently. Sam cautiously walked through the bunker to the kitchen, ready for an attack or something bad to happen. Sam slowly crept into the kitchen to see Cas holding two jars of peanut butter.

"Sam I need your help. I didn't quite enjoy my meal and that restaurant and I wanted to have a peanut butter sandwich here instead, but I can't remember if—"

Sam had been so delighted by the fact that Cas was okay that he just grinned and interrupted Cas with, "You're alive". Cas turned around and peered at Sam, "Yes...I am". Seeing how confused Cas looked by Sam, Sam said, "But what about Kyle? Being possessed? and-and then shooting you?", while approaching Cas.

"Sam, that didn't happen"

Just like that, memory of Castiel getting shot was gone from his memory, completely erased. Sam made his confused puppy dog face and said, "Um, yeah you're right...I-I don't even know why I'd think that, I'm just....". Sam hugged Castiel in a way that all of Sam's weight was on Castiel. Sam exhaustedly sighed as he rested his head against Castiel's shoulder and said, "I'm just glad you're alive". Sam nuzzled his head more into Cas’s shoulder when he really thought about where’d he be without Castiel. Cas was his only friend. He didn’t really have any other connections to people. Castiel grunted from underneath Sam then said, 'Sam...I'm...I'm not an angel...I only have the strength of Jimmy...and—"

Sam got the gist of what Cas was trying to say and let go of him.

"Right, sorry. I forgot", Sam said, smoothing back his hair awkwardly and wishing he weren't such a large person. Sam puffed up his chest a little bit with his breath and loosely rested his hands on his hips.

“Okay, so you wanted a sandwich”

* * *

Castiel watched idly as the Englishwoman walked to and from Sam’s cell for what seemed like the fiftieth time. She occasionally would sport a syringe with blood on it but this time she gripped a small, glowing vase with her right hand. Castiel tried to get a good look at what could be in the bottle, but the Englishwoman noticed his wandering eyes. She slowed her walk and tucked the bottle into the inside pocket of her very high-end blazer.

“Curiosity kills”, said the woman, to which Castiel tried to reply with “That’s not true”, but all that came out was more coughs. The woman tilted her head and smiled at Castiel—the same way that Naomi would beam at Castiel when he would do what he was told. This angered Castiel to a point where it was unexplainable, but this anger pulsing through him and his vessel wasn’t enough to make him stronger and he pitifully pulled at the chains. The lady laughed gracefully at him as she continued on her way to Sam’s cell and left Castiel wondering whether or not there was something that wasn’t elegant about this woman. Oh wait, maybe the whole ‘kidnapping a person—and an angel—then caging them in a personal jail’ thing could be the rough edge in her personality.

* * *

At this point, Sam had propped himself up on the counter, watching Castiel carefully make his sandwich.

“So I watched that show Orange is the New Black”, Castiel began, “and it’s name is very misleading”. Sam grinned while Castiel continued and said: “I don’t think the word ‘presumptuous’ does the show justice, but ‘audacious is a pretty good way to describe it”. They continued their easy-going conversation which switched from shows to random facts to Castiel talking about the assassination of Julius Caesar and how Brutus had actually been possessed. When Castiel finally finished crafting his sandwich, Sam picked up the ice chest of beer that was always full and gave Castiel an inviting look.

* * *

Suddenly, Castiel felt himself growing stronger. Although it was gradual, it was definitely happening. A thud from above Castiel surprised him and caused him to accidently pull down on the chains holding him down, which resulted in the chains breaking off of the ceiling. Castiel, confused, but also not really needing an explanation on why he was suddenly free, immediately broke down his chained door, and then Sam’s. Castiel needed a moment to take in this sight: Sam was sitting at what looked like a school chair that had a desk connected to it. Sam’s face had blood on it in different places, but none of it seemed to be his. The griminess of Sam’s cell matched Castiel’s, but Sam’s chains didn’t. In fact, Sam wasn’t chained down at all. Sam sat there with his mouth frozen open due to his weak jaw and his head lolling to the right and left every so slightly.

Castiel shook his head while wincing and just muttered “Sam” before pulling him out of the chair and focusing all of what little power he had to teleport them out of wherever they are. Castiel focused clearly on one of the miscellaneous motel rooms that Sam and Dean had stayed in until it became reality. Castiel collapsed from the lack of power and Sam fell with him. After a few moments of nothingness, Castiel managed to muster enough energy to get Sam on a bed and himself on a bed. Relieved that him and Sam seemed relatively safe and okay, Castiel fell asleep—but more like passed out.

* * *

Sam and Cas lounged across the hood of the Impala, using the windshield as the backrest. Castiel had been reluctant at first but he saw how comfortable Sam looked doing it so he joined. The ice chest separated the two of them as they looked up at the sky and Cas ate his sandwich.

Sam broke nature’s silence by saying, “Cas, do you think you’re going to stay down here and be human? Like, human human? I mean, do stereotypical human stuff?”. Sam turned to Castiel and Cas returned his gaze.

“Possibly. But if I were to start a new life here, you know what the first thing I would do?”, Castiel said, looking up dazily at his Father’s creation. Sam smiled and said, “What?”, expecting something insightful or maybe even poetic to come from Cas.

“Cut you off from my life”, Castiel said before thoughtfully chewing on his sandwich. Alarmed, Sam looked to Castiel and said, “Um, what?”

“Your heard me”, Castiel said dispassionately, still looking at sandwich.

“Sam, you know I have much better things to do with my time than to just hold your hand while you mourn your brothers death”, Castiel said, sighing at the fact that this hadn’t occurred to Sam.

“But, but you were very close friends with Dean, why—”

“Sam. If I’m getting a fresh start as a human, I’m going to actually do something with my life, unlike you. I’m going to go out, explore the world through the lens of new eyes. Maybe I’ll start a family and live in the suburbs. Maybe I’ll get a small job, a hobby, and set up a bee sanctuary—who knows! Y’see the possibilities are endless for me; I’ve got a clean slate. However, there is one thing that I know I will not be spending my time doing”, Castiel said, turning to Sam to see if he already knew. Sam, who’s eyes were red, looked angry.

“I will not spend that time with you. I will get as far away from you as—”

“Why are you saying this”, Sam asked, but it came out more like a wail, which made Castiel smile. Sighing, Castiel said, “Oh Sam, someone has to tell you the truth”. Sam’s murderous eyes looked across Castiel’s placid face as Castiel continued to speak: “The first time your brother died, you went off the rails. Way off. Maybe this time you’ll actually fall”.

Castiel, putting up his hands and shaking his body in a mocking manner, said, “ _The Boy King has risen_. That title has got quite a catchy name Sam, don’t ya think?”. Castiel laced his hands together as they lay on his lap. Crossing his stretched legs, Castiel beamed at the miserable Sam. He leaned towards Sam, face tilted, mouth forming a grin. With a blink, Castiel’s eyes were yellow as he said to Sam, “I’m glad my legacy lived on even when I didn’t”

* * *

Castiel opened his eyes slowly. How long has it been? Two days? Two hours? Besides the fact that he felt less weak, Castiel did not see the appeal in taking naps. Swinging his legs over the bed and standing up slowly, Castiel could feel his grace gradually repairing itself. Castiel’s gaze steadily made it’s way over to Sam who had begun to twitch. His minor twitch turned into a full on seizure as Castiel tried to get himself together.

“Sam”, Castiel said, weakly at first. Clearing his throat, Castiel affirmatively said, “Sam”, louder this time. Sam began to shake his head vigorously as Castiel placed both his hands on Sam’s shoulders. Pushing down on Sam with each word, Castiel yelled, “Sam, wake up!”

Castiel picked up Sam from under his arms and pinned him against the wall, which doubled as a backboard, by his shoulder.

“Sam”, yelled Castiel, “Listen to me, please!”. Sam’s body stopped fighting Castiel and his eyelids lifted very cautiously. Castiel shared a look with Sam and saw nothing but pure fear in his eyes while his body began to curl up. The way that Sam looked at Castiel seemed oddly familiar to him. Castiel let go of Sam’s shoulders and, shaking, Sam clumsily pushed himself to the other side of the bed as his body curled up even more. Tilting his head, Castiel studied Sam’s face and knew why it was familiar: it was the same way that Sam looked at Lucifer.

“Sam—”, Castiel began, putting out his hand to rest it on Sam’s shoulder.

“Please don’t touch me”, Sam said, his voice cracking, hugging his knees. Sam had a small, painful smile on his face and his absent stare told Castiel that Sam was elsewhere.

“Sam, whatever happened...it wasn’t real, you know that right?”, Castiel said, a look of pity on his face. This information seemed to pass right through Sam as he had no reaction. Castiel walked around to the side of the bed that Sam had moved too.

“How do I know that this isn’t real”, Sam said, creating circles on his knee with his right hand, “Everything feels the same as it did...before”. Although Sam flinched and his eyes grew wide as Castiel came near, he didn’t move away from him. Sam wiped his eyes as well as wiping some of the dried blood that was on his face. Castiel picked up Sam’s other hand and said, “This is real, okay Sam?”. Castiel looked at Sam for confirmation that he understood him. “You will be okay, I’ll make sure of it”

Sam smiled, more genuine this time but still very nervous looking.

“Thank you Cas”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feeed backkk helppss soo muchh thank you ~


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I swear it is going to get interesting soon, just read what I've got down so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so it is my two-month anniversary of not uploading anything! Sorry about that guys, but here ya go! (this was written on 9/16/16)

Sitting in the back of a taxi, Castiel watched over Sam—frustrated over the fact that he couldn’t enter his mind and heal him. However, Castiel still smiled, for Sam seemed relatively at peace as he slept. Even though the back seat of the taxi reeked of smoke and the seats were grimy, tiredness knows no bounds and eventually put Castiel to sleep.

Both of the men were out when they got to the bunker, and both were awoken by the sound of the taxi driver’s fist hitting the piece of plastic that divided the front seats from the back seats. Sam and Cas drowsily got out of the taxi and Castiel was meet with the driver’s outstretched hand.

“Oh, money. I almost forgot”, said Castiel, reaching into his trench coat pocket. Huffing, the driver said, “Yeah. I didn’t drive you two out here to this creepy place for fun”, observing the entrance to the bunker. Castiel made a confused face at the driver’s comment about “this creepy place” and then handed the man a stash of crumpled up dollar bills.

Castiel didn’t realize that he had paid the man way too much—the ride was surprisingly short, as the motel that Castiel had teleported them was just outside Lebanon, where the bunker is located—but the driver had no issues with keeping the extra money.

“This extra money is for not asking why your buddy’s got blood all over his face”, said the driver.

Castiel felt a wave of warmth wash over him as he entered the bunker.  _ Home _ , he thought. Castiel took in the bunker as he walked around looking for Sam, who had gone immediately into his room to change. Sam had just taken off his blood soakened, plaid shirt when Castiel reached his room. Not noticing Castiel, Sam frowned as he rolled up his shirt and placed it on top of his dresser, about to open the drawer and pull out a cleaner shirt.

“Sam”, Castiel said in the doorway of Sam’s room, which alarmed Sam, almost causing him to fall over.

“Oh, Cas”, Sam said, letting out a deep breath. Sam avoided eye contact with Castiel and instead looked for the clean shirt he was going to get out of the drawer. Castiel, stepping closer to Sam, said, “Sam, are you okay?”.

Sam, backing up from Castiel, said, “Yes I’m fine—”

He was cut off by the eerie ringing in his ear. Sam yelled as he clutched the side of his head and fell to the ground. Not knowing what to do, Castiel knelt next to Sam as he repeatedly hit his right ear.

“STOP STOP STOP”, Sam yelled at the ground, his eyes closed tightly. Castiel grabbed Sam’s wrist before he could slam it into his ears and Sam’s opened his eyes, fearful.

“Sam”, Castiel said loudly, holding on to his wrist with all of his strength. The pain left Sam’s face as he looked toward Castiel.

“What was that…”, asked Sam in a small voice, looking at his wrist, which Castiel had grabbed harshly. Castiel, slowly letting go of Sam’s wrist, said, “I, uh, I tried to read your mind”.

“You...but why?”, Sam said, confused. Castiel looked down at Sam, who was knelt down in a way that made it look like he wasn’t a giant, 6’4” moose-man, his hair a mess. Sighing, Castiel sat in Indian style next in front of Sam.

“You’re not okay, Sam”, Castiel began, which was followed by a small scoff from Sam.

“I know that that is an understatement but I believe there is something happening to you that even you aren’t aware of”, Castiel said, following Sam’s gaze to his hands; hands that were anxiously twitching.

“Demon blood”, Sam said, his voice shaky, “She infected me with demon blood in some way”. Castiel watched as Sam hung his head and tried to comfort him by putting his hand on his shoulder. Confused, and grinning a tiny bit, Sam looked up at Castiel, who awkwardly pulled his hand back. 

“I guess we’ve gotta chain me up now”, Sam said, his now grey eyes vacantly staring at the ground. Castiel helped Sam get up and held on to his arm as he walked him through the bunker to the dungeon where he’d have to tie him down to the seat. It was hard to tell who dreaded this more: Sam or Castiel.

It was when Sam collapsed onto the small—well small for him—metal chair, clutching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger, that Castiel had noticed that Sam never had a chance to get his clean shirt out of his drawer and on his body. Sam was too exhausted and hurt to notice nor mind, and Castiel, well he didn’t really care. Castiel felt strange. He has seen Sam in his darkest times: when he didn’t have a soul and threatened to kill Cas, when he was on the verge of insanity because Lucifer was in his head (no thanks to Cas), and when he was on demon blood, yet seeing him shirtless seemed more strange to Castiel than seeing Sam with open wounds. Castiel locked down Sam’s limp hands to the chair while Sam bit his lip, staring at his lap. Sam shook his head, trying to get his sticky hair out of his face while Castiel left the room, turning off the lights and closing the door.

                                                                             *                               *                                   *

Castiel had slumped against the door for hours, but he couldn’t fall asleep. The sounds of Sam's scream wouldn’t allow it. Castiel went into the room he was most familiar with in the bunker to go to rest himself, but it felt wrong for Castiel to sleep in Sam’s room while he was experiencing agonizing pain in a dungeon. Cas really had nothing to do; however, he made himself useful by staying on post outside the dungeon, ready to jump in and help Sam if was physically hurt.

Most of Castiel’s thoughts were cut off by the ambience, which was Sam’s constant yelling. Suddenly, it got quiet, which meant that a) Sam had gotten the demon blood out of system already or b) Sam had passed out. Hoisting himself up, Castiel slowly opened the door and flipped the dusty switches  on. The lights flickered on as Castiel walked toward Sam. Sam was staring at the ceiling, his mouth open, unmoving.

“Sam”, Castiel said sternly, before grabbing Sam’s shoulders and repeating himself.

“Cas”, Sam muttered weakly, “Cas, I’m here, I-I think”.

Castiel unchained his wrists and Sam slowly stretched his fingers.

“Are you in any physical pain?”, Castiel asked, staring down at Sam, who was gradually starting to move.

“I’m just”, Sam said, gulping, “Sore”   
“Honestly, all I need right now is just a...warm shower or something”, Sam said, while Castiel helped him out of the chair and to his feet.

“Sam, I’m pretty sure you need more than just—”

“Well, it’s a start”, Sam said, tripping a little bit with each step. About halfway down the hall, Sam got to walking on his own. Castiel departed into Sam’s room, being able to rest now that he knew Sam was fine, or at least seemed fine, all the while Sam went to go take a shower.

                                                                             *                               *                                   *

Castiel laid in Sam’s bed in a soldier sleeping position, with his right foot crossing over his left one. His face looked concentrated on the door to Sam’s bedroom. He was thinking about how weird it was that Sam and he had managed to escape such a wretched place. Alive anyways. The Men of Letters were professionals; they would not have a building filled with torture chambers and prisoners without having a state-of-the-art security system—especially considering the fact that most of the prisoners in said chambers would be supernatural beings, like him…and Sam, in a way. Castiel thought back to the moment where they had escaped. He had started to feel stronger, like he was being powered up, and then a loud  _ thud _ noise erupted from the ceiling. The trembling off the ceiling had so much power that it had broken Castiel’s chains and set him free…ish. The rest of it was pretty simple: he grabbed Sam (grabbed was an understatement) and then teleported the two of them to a hotel, where they then rested and caught a taxi the next day.

“Hey Cas?”, said Sam from the other side of his door, interrupting Castiel’s thought process. “I… kind of need to get my clothes”, said Sam. Sam accepted the silence following his statement as confusion, so he said, “Could you leave my room so I can get my clothes?”

“Of course”, said Castiel, leaving Sam’s room and awkwardly passing by Sam, who only had a towel around his waist. When Sam’s door was closed shut, Castiel got back to thinking again, but this time about something different.  _ What now? _ , thought Castiel. Though Sam and Castiel would never truly be done with mourning Dean, Castiel couldn’t help wondering what would happen afterwards.  _ Would Sam remain a hunter and perhaps hunt with Cas? Would Sam carry out a normal life and not need Castiel anymore? _ Castiel knew one thing, though. No matter what, he was going to stick with Sam, because Sam is his friend. And vice versa, Castiel knew that Sam wouldn’t let him go, at least not quite yet.

“Can I see your angel blade?”

Sam’s loudness and abruptness scared Castiel and he hit both of his knees on the table before standing up and presenting Sam with his angel blade.

“Um, sure, Sam. May I ask why?”, asked Castiel, before being cut off by a sharp pain in his right shoulder. Wincing, Castiel pulled the angel blade out of his shoulder and began to say “Sam, what are you doing?”, but was again cut off. Sam let out a big breath and flashed a devious smile as well as a pair of black eyes at Castiel.

“I’m quite the actor. Aren’t I?”

“But”, Castiel sputtered while Sam pinned him against the wall, his forearm pressing against Castiel’s throat. Sam grinned at Castiel while adjusting his grip of the angel blade in his left hand. Honestly, Castiel could easily get himself out of this, but he wanted to see how it would pan out.

“But? Yeah, I suppose giving me some time to myself to  _ work my problems out  _ and  _ rid myself of demon blood _ should’ve worked”, said Sam, jokingly scratching his head with the tip of the angel blade mockingly thoughtfully, which didn’t hurt him for some reason.

Holding up his pointer finger to Castiel, Sam said, “However, there is just one minor issue. A demon is a tortured soul and, well, you can’t just cleanse yourself of torture”.

Seeing—but not feeling—Sam’s forearm press harder into Castiel’s throat, Castiel muttered, “Sam… that’s… that’s not possible… you’ve—”

“Survived 180 years in Hell without becoming a demon?”, Sam said, holding out his left arm to present himself, “Yeah, my gold medal for not becoming a demon was intense hallucinations as well as losing you”, Sam said, barely grazing Castiel’s chin with the angel blade.

“No”, Castiel said, his gruff voice suddenly clear, “This doesn’t—”

“Hey, Cas?”

Castiel was zapped back into his semi-comfortable position of laying on Sam’s bed, utterly confused.

“I… kind of need to get my clothes”

Castiel checked for his angel blade in the inner pocket of his coat. Sure enough, there it was—nestled in the fabric.

Opening the door, Sam said, “Cas, I’d rather not—are you good?”

Sam stopped in his tracks as he noticed Castiel’s dazed expression toward his silver angel blade gleaming in his right hand.

“Not necessarily”, Castiel said, not moving. “I think I received a message...in the form of hallucination. It didn’t make much sense. You were a demon for some reason”, Castiel said, putting his angel blade back. The phrase  _ you were a demon _ just added to the uncomfortableness that Sam was feeling right now.

“Do you mind talking about this after I get dressed?”

Immediately getting up, Castiel said, “Oh, right. Sorry”. Sam passed Castiel to reach his dresser, both thinking about what Castiel had said.  _ So Castiel was a demon in my vision, and now I’m a demon in his? _

“Why can’t there just be a normal conflict going on in my life”, Sam muttered. Castiel stopped in Sam’s doorway at this comment.

“Well, I’m sure a sick person would rather be a healthy person, and that healthy person would rather be a famous person,” Castiel began, thoughtfully, “and that famous person would rather be a loved person”, he finished, making eye contact with Sam the entire time.  
Unfolding a shirt from his drawer, Sam said, “Yeah I guess that’s true. Thanks, Cas,” then, turning to Cas, light-heartedly said, “As always”.


End file.
